


you steal away the rain

by Metis_Ink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Getting Together, cameos from volleyballers and moms, please help i love them so much, sits all alone in the yamayachi tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metis_Ink/pseuds/Metis_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yachi finds it far too easy to fall in love with Yamaguchi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you steal away the rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mangotcha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangotcha/gifts).



> (Frankenstein voice) IT'S ALIVE. 
> 
> (bows) i finally wrote a yamayachi fic and i am so proud of myself for just releasing something but just th i S SHI P IS G OIN G TO D E STR OY M E. please forgive the self-indulgent fluff and ship worship i am so in love. feel free to listen to the same track as i did when i wrote this. i'm just glad this tag has english fic now. this is for all of you deprived shippers.
> 
> bless loki (again) for helping me with editing. i love you honey and this is gifted to you.

**I.**

Yamaguchi’s first service ace is what does the trick.

Yachi can still hear the light thud of the ball ringing in her ears the moment she remembers to breathe again. She hadn’t even realized she had forgotten. There was that moment, she had looked down and saw that familiar glint in Yamaguchi’s eyes that told her that, he was ready for this, and all of her thoughts came to a halt.

The team flocks around a dazed Yamaguchi, bursting with excitement, and the scoreboard flips Karasuno into a clean 25 points. They win, 25-22.

And the moment he looks up to her, still stupefied by his feat, Yachi’s thoughts stop. Though the shock pushes away in favor of her happiness.

 _That was a float jump serve,_ she thinks. She’s seen the videos with Yamaguchi, when he tried to explain what he’s been trying to do with Shimada-san all this time. On the screen it looked like skill, like a trick, but in front of her, when Yamaguchi did it, it felt like _magic_.

 _Because he’s just like me_. To her, it wasn’t the slight of the hand or the calculated power, but just Yamaguchi himself who did that. Yamaguchi, who failed again and again and never stopped working, never stopped getting back up and chasing those stronger than him: he did that. For all of his insecurity and self-doubt, all of the anxiety that Yachi knows too well, he’s finally reached his goal. It leaves Yachi speechless with a dreamlike feeling that something amazing just happened.

Yachi can feel her smile break across her face; it’s so wide it hurts. She’s so sure she’s probably tearing up, embarrassingly enough, but Shimada-san is all but dry-eyed not too far from her, so she doesn’t care. She instead lets out a cheer so loud it could make up for an entire audience, straight from her heart and nothing else.

And it’s like a switch. Yamaguchi’s eyes brighten like the sun, and his mouth quivers into a smile. Hinata and Nishinoya attack him with hugs, and Tsukishima graces his best friend with one of his not-so-stoic congratulations. He’s worked hard for this.

(And part of that happiness, as she learns later: she did that.)

Yachi pounces on her friend right as soon as he exits the gym, an unintelligible mess of “You did it, you did it, that was so awesome, I knew you could do it, I knew it you big dummy,” as she hangs crying from his neck. Oh, man, he’s always been too tall for her, but that’s nothing she can or wants to change. He’s flustered, and tries to set her down, but Yachi’s death-grip is immovable.

He didn’t, in the end. With shivering hands, he hugged her back, his panicked sputters smoothing out into sweet laughter. Yachi so rarely hears him laugh like this. Yamaguchi’s never had to courage to express himself, but Yachi loves it when she experiences those little moments. She could live a lifetime looking out for all of the hidden Yamaguchis she’s yet to see. He’s kind and brave and amazing, and she wants…

And it dawns on her.

“Nice catch, Yama!” Nishinoya cat-calls at them, accompanied by an excited Tanaka, but Yachi doesn’t lift her head up.

But by god, does she want to, because the realization makes her so hyper-sensitive. Yamaguchi’s arms are warm from where they hook around her dangling legs. She can feel his breath on her neck, scorching hot. His scent (shampoo, peaches, and sweat: things that shouldn’t go well together but strangely do) makes her dizzy and her lungs struggle to work. Again.

Yachi would fear how this boy may be her future cause of death one day if she weren’t so worried about not showing her burning red face.

“Um, Yachi?”

“C-Can you carry me?” Her voice is trembling. “Please?”

“Right,” he replied, dutiful. She appreciates it far too much.

Yamaguchi ends up carrying her to a bench just outside of the gyms, a little further from where their celebrating team has gathered, but she can only imagine how strange it would be for someone to be carrying their embarrassed manager around. She suddenly feels terrible again. And desperate. And conflicted. And every other devastating emotion in the world.

She covers up her face as soon as Yamaguchi peels her off. No, no, no, if he saw her like this… “Um… I just…”

“Here.”

Suddenly, there’s a quick rustling of clothes, and before she can peek, her vision goes dark. “What…!”

“Oh! Uh, sorry, I didn’t think you liked anyone see you cry,” Yamaguchi says, his tone gentle. Yachi inhales, only to take in a familiar scent, and she realizes that Yamaguchi just threw his jacket over her. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No!” Yachi’s hand shoots out and snags Yamaguchi by what was intended to be his shirt, but ended up being his pant leg. Immediately, she detaches herself, and is so, so glad about this jacket over her in so many different ways. “I mean—! Y-You can stay. I’m okay, I’m happy. I’m happy for you.”

“I… I just… Yeah.” Yamaguchi clears his throat, and after a few moments of silence, Yachi finally feels him sit into the chair next to her’s. She takes a long, deep breath, and buries herself into Yamaguchi’s jacket.

“You were really cool,” she says, as small as a mouse. “You did it.”

A pause.

In a trembling voice: “I did it.”

Under the jacket, Yachi’s grin overtakes her reddened features.

 

* * *

 

 **II.**  

Yamaguchi smiles a lot more in their second year. It’s partially his newly-found confidence, and partially the responsibility. Yamaguchi has to be the sweetest person on their team now that Sugawara’s graduated. Even though he may be realizing now just how his shoes are hard to fill, but just looking out for their first years automatically gives him that well-needed respect. She’s sure Ennoshita is grateful for the support.

Yachi, herself, she’s not too sure about these first years.

She’s trying to take down notes without her legs turning into a pile of pudding, because there’s this really strong wing-spiker, Sakamoto, who could kill someone with his horizontal spikes. Ennoshita keeps getting into his face on his recklessness. He already gave another first year a bloody nose on the first day and Kageyama nearly blew a fuse. Hinata had to remind him that if he were a spiker in his first year, he would have probably done the same thing. Oh, thank Hinata.

Yachi shuffles around the game on high alert, doing her best to pay attention to the other players but always glancing back at Sakamoto. He’s six feet of anticipation and hair-trigger anger, a time bomb ready to go off. She sucks in a breath when he spikes and doesn’t let go of it until Nishinoya receives it with a loud _slam_.

She eventually pulls herself away from the practice game to consume herself in her notes. Her uncle calls volleyball a girl’s game. He’s obviously never been to one, nonetheless seen on up close. This game could kill her. Sakamoto would flatten her with one of his meteor spikes and they would have to scrape her off the floor with a spatula and they would all cry, _Oh, oh our poor manager. How are we going to find a new one on such short notice! Where would we—_

And suddenly, Hinata’s voice: “YACHI!”

Yachi yelps and drops her clipboard in shock, only catching a glimpse of the volleyball shooting her way before a hand grabs her arm. Her eyes squeeze shut as her mind screams her panicked death will. _I want to leave my notes to Hinata and Kageyama so they can pass midterms this year, tell my mother I love her and that I never…_

But instead of a volleyball, there’s another hand on her shoulder, a sharp sound and pained grunt, and someone with a familiar smell struggling not to fall on her.

There’s a flurry of yelling, including Hinata’s “What the hell, Sakamoto, you hit Yamaguchi!” and their first year setter’s, “Watch out for Yachi-sempai, you fuck!” until Ennoshita’s cuts through like a knife with deafening “ _Sakamoto!_ ”

“Yamaguchi!” Yachi scrambles to set her friend upright. Oh man, oh man, that spike sounded like it hit _hard_. What if Yamaguchi died? No, no, no, Yachi didn’t want that, not at all. “Yamaguchi, you can’t die here!”

“I’m fine, really!” Yamaguchi says as Yachi directs him to a chair. His hand touches the back of his head tenderly, and she gives him a strangled version of an apology. “It’s okay! D-Don’t cry! See?” He stands up. “I wouldn’t really be a volleyball player if I couldn’t take stuff like this, would I?”

He’s still got a hold on her arm, looking down at her a look of concern hidden behind a broad grin. She only realizes a second later that she’s trembling, and Yamaguchi’s hold it as gentle as he can make it.

She takes a deep breath.

“Sorry,” Sakamoto tells them later, looking oddly constipated, but guilty. Ennoshita hovers behind him, boring holes into the back of his neck with a pointed glare despite being a good ten centimeters shorter than him. Wow, captain-ship did a lot for Ennoshita. “I’ll watch myself next time.”

“You’ll watch yourself _every time_ ,” Ennoshita says, making Sakamoto go bright red. And then to Yachi and Yamaguchi, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him. You can sit out until you’re ready, Yamaguchi.”

“But I’m okay, really—”

“Sit. Now.”

Yamaguchi looks over to Yachi for support, but she’s already tugging him over to the chairs. Luckily, Sakamoto’s been sent off to work on receives with Team B. Yachi plants herself right next to him, rubbing a tentative hand into his back.

“T-T-Thanks, Yamaguchi,” she stammers. Yamaguchi gives her a weak smile, small but reassuring. She gulps. “I, um… That sounded like it really hurt! Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it doesn’t hurt that…” He hisses when Yachi checks the back of his head. “Oh, okay, it hurt a lot. But it’ll go away.”

Yachi sits stiffly in her chair, wanting and not wanting to keep a grip on Yamaguchi’s shirt, as if he might fall over and die at any second. Or run away. Except when she tries to let go, she finds herself clutching it harder. She knows Tsukishima is giving her one of those looks, but she swears she’s trying her best to control herself here.

Yamaguchi doesn’t say anything and tries to keep his full attention on the unfolding game. She glances up, once, and sees that his neck is just as red as hers.

 

 

“You know he practically glued himself to your side when Sakamoto entered the vanguard.”

Yachi sputters instead of responding to Tsukishima, waving her hands in a motion supposedly meaning, “Why?”

Tsukishima shrugs. “It’s not like something like this hasn’t happened before. He knows when you’re nervous.”

“Oh, well, I just…”

“Then again, everyone knows when you’re nervous.”

“What!?”

“He’s too nice to yell at the underclassmen for not looking out for you,” Tsukishima continues anyway, putting Yachi’s panic aside. “Guess he just decided to watch out for you instead.”

 

* * *

 

**III.**

“Are you sick?”

Yachi sniffles, rubbing her post-sneeze runny nose. “Nobe,” she says, but just speaking already holds against her. “I mean…” she sniffles again. “Nope! I’m just cold, that’s all. The winter’s really come in strong, huh? Like a snow monster.”

Yamaguchi glances out the door, where a thick sheet of white only grows with the light fall of snow. He’s already dressed up; practice ended fifteen minutes ago, but he’s still wearing his Karasuno jacket for warmth. Yachi can understand all too well, those things are amazingly comfortable.

But in a second, it’s off his shoulders and over her’s as Yamaguchi fits it snugly on her. He’s already pulling out his black school uniform, which is thin and definitely not as warm as his soft sports jacket, what, what, what, Yamaguchi.

“I can’t take this!” she says but still grabs onto the jacket so that it doesn’t fall off. So it won’t fall into the snow. That’s right. She can’t ruin this jacket, never in her life should she.

“I’m already warmed up from practice,” he tells her firmly as he puts on his school jacket. “And I don’t want you to get sick. And you will, no matter what you tell me.”

Yachi wants to protests, but sniffles instead. Oh, well, so much for an argument.

“Where’s Tsukishima?” she asks instead, because she’s smooth like that. Her friend’s usual companion isn’t anywhere in sight, which is unusual considering he’s about to go home. Even though Yamaguchi had become more independent in second year, they were still always that same duo that they were in first year. Yachi knows because she pays attention. To Yamaguchi. A lot. Maybe.

Yamaguchi bites his lip. “Well, um.” He looks down to his feet. “H-He said he would go on ahead.”

And then his eyes are back on Yachi, where she’s got one arm in his jacket and the other worming its way through the other sleeve. He’s staring, probably by how big it is on her, her hands look so tiny with the long sleeves hanging off her wrists. But it’s amazingly comfortable and warm, a lot more than she expected, and she curls up in its softness.

“Do you…” Yamaguchi turns pink when his voice cracks, the rest of his sentence turning into a pile of blubber, until: “Do you want to walk home together?”

Yachi perks up, suddenly frozen stiff from where she’s bundled up in Yamaguchi’s jacket. “I…”

“See ya, Yamaguchi-sempai, Yachi-sempAAHK—”

Yachi and Yamaguchi swerve around, only to see an unknowing Sakamoto be dragged away by Hinata and Kageyama, both looking like Sakamoto nearly set off a fire. Hinata flashes Yachi an encouraging look before they drag the first year into the storage room, and Yachi feels cold sweat on the back of her neck.

She turns back to Yamaguchi, who’s so undoubtedly embarrassed she can feel it from underneath her protective jacket-wrapped armor.

“W-Well, if you don’t want to, then I can I go, really!” He turns around to make his way out, a moment too early in his panicked rush, and it sets of alarms in Yachi’s head.

“No! No,” she says, and sticks herself firmly by his side with a hand on his wrist. He stops immediately. “Let’s go home together. I want to!”

“Really!?” Yamaguchi’s gaze shoots back to Yachi, his eyes flashing brightly.

“Yeah!” She grips his wrist harder, her heart racing at the smile he’s fighting to hold back.

Then, she hears a snicker that sounds oddly like Hinata’s from the door. She doesn’t waste another second before she drags Yamaguchi away, wanting nothing more than to die where she stands.

But then, as soon as they exit the gates, they look at each other. They’re both stiff and nervous and speak in such a bumbling mess that their words just tangle up and die with every sentence. It only takes a moment of silence for Yamaguchi to start snickering, and end up sending them both into a giant fit of laughter. And Yachi thinks that maybe dying now would be a bad idea.

 

 

Halfway home, Yachi realizes her hand is still latched onto Yamaguchi’s wrist. She yelps an apology snatching it away, but Yamaguchi only takes it back in his own hand, stammering one back. She stills and doesn’t remove her hand again.

Not another word is spoken all the way to the apartments, but Yamaguchi’s hand is rough and warm in hers and she doesn’t think anything else has ever felt this _right_.

 

* * *

 

 

 **IV.**  

Their first date, which they only call a date after they realize it’s already happened, is interrupted by her mother.

To be honest, Yachi’s not even sure it can be called a date. It started out with studying, Yamaguchi helping her out with Japanese history and her helping Yamaguchi with English, but then it turned into gossip, which became a movie, which became Yamaguchi falling asleep and Yachi being close enough for him to fall asleep on and, um, well.

Yamaguchi wakes up at the sound of her mother’s briefcase hitting the floor. He eventually helps in fanning her mother out of the shock; apparently her mother completely skipped over the fact that she might have started dating in the light of how busy she’s been with volleyball and college prep classes and never expected to see her daughter home alone with a boy.

(But really, Yamaguchi was far too nervous to even get within a meter of her room, not that Yachi didn’t feel the same.)

“M-Mom,” she chokes out, sitting protectively next to Yamaguchi across from her mother at the dining table. “This is Yamaguchi! Tadashi. Yamaguchi Tadashi. He’s from the volleyball team!”

“Oh.” Her mother’s assistant, hands her a steaming cup of tea, which she finishes in one gulp. “Oh! Volleyball, right. Volleyball. Boys’ volleyball,” she repeats, as if all of this is coming to her at once.

“Yachi-san,” her mother's assistant says, carefully, and her mother straightens up.

“Right!” She slams her tea down, and Yachi fears the worst. “ _Yamaguchi_.”

“Mom!” Yachi warns, because Yamaguchi’s shivering like a leaf next to her.

“Hold up, honey,” her mother says, and looks Yamaguchi straight in the eye, making him freeze. “I’m going to get straight to the point. You see that girl right there?” She points to Yachi, who’s stone stiff in her seat and utterly confused, with one perfectly-manicured hand. “That girl there is my baby. She is my treasure. She may have had a piss-poor sick bastard of a father but she is _mine_ , and I will make sure she is strong and happy and safe. She is not lucky to have _you_ , you are lucky to have _her_. You hear me? Good.”

The room goes quiet as her mother leans forward, lips a flat, bright red line.

“I don’t care if you’re the star of your team or the goddamn prime minister, you hurt her and I swear I will make sure you are physically incapable of touching her again. Are we clear?”

Yamaguchi and her mother stare at each other, for a few moments of deafening silence, but it’s anything but in Yachi’s head. Because Yamaguchi is not her boyfriend, technically. She doesn’t think. They held hands once. A few times. Sometimes when they walked home together. They’ve been friends since first year, before she even realized she had crush on him bigger than the sun itself. He might be her hero in so many different ways, but he always treats her like she’s an equal. A friend.

But Yamaguchi still nods at her mother, right after the greatest boyfriend speech Yachi’s ever heard, and says, “Yes.” And Yachi thinks, _More than friends_.

Her mother turns to her, where she’s still left flushed red from her mother’s earlier speech, and she nods as fast as she can. Her mother, who still looks fairly dissatisfied with herself, looks back at Yamaguchi.

“And why are we clear?” she asks, an eyebrow raised.

“B-Because I’m going to take care of her,” Yamaguchi says. He takes a moment to stop himself and breathe, and meets her mother’s eyes. “Because she deserves for someone to take care of her. Because she’s wonderful.”

Yachi and her mother both stare at him. Her mother's assistant gives Yamaguchi one of those man stares that probably means that Yamaguchi just did something really awesome. Yachi thinks so too, though. She’s a little more distracted by how _wonderful_ rings clear in her head.

Her mother smiles, proud, and then bursts into tears.

Everyone freaks out then, trying to calm her mother down, but she keeps crying, “My baby is growing up, I can’t believe it, she’s found a boy all on her own and soon she’s going to graduate and leave me and oh my god, I’m still crying, don’t look at me…”

Eventually, they clean up her tears and mascara, and Yachi and Yamaguchi are standing out on the apartment doorstep, face to face, in the wake of the recent events that had just stumbled their way.

“Yachi, I, um,” Yamaguchi starts, looking positively frazzled by her mother’s antics, and a lot of other things that Yachi’s still trying to sort out on her head. “And I think this is really late but I like you. A lot. And I meant what I said back there. Maybe even—”

Yachi throws her arms around Yamaguchi’s neck and drags him down to her so she can hold him tight and blabber nonsense into his ear. Yamaguchi yelps in surprise, but Yachi doesn’t let go. She keeps holding until, hesitantly, he hugs her back. And once he does, he squeezes her tight.

“I really, really, really like you,” she sputters out, as much as she can with her face pressed into his shoulder. It reminds her of when she first realized she liked him, just without the tears and awkward koala hold. “And I think you’re really wonderful too.”

 

 

Her mother falls in love with Yamaguchi after two weeks of his holy presence gracing their apartment. “Is that Yamaguchi kid taking care of you?” becomes “Hey, how’s Tadashi doing?” amazingly quick. She has a stash in the cabinet where she keeps all of the chocolate he’s sacrificed to her in good will, but she probably would have loved him even without the gifts. Yamaguchi is enough of a gift himself.

 

* * *

 

**V.**

Yachi’s leaning over the edge of her bed, right over Yamaguchi’s shoulder and laughing with him over a video of one of their latest matches on his phone, when she realizes just how close she is to his face. His freckles are scattered and light, of all different sizes, clustered over his cheeks and nose. They’re like stars, she thinks, and traces a finger over them.

“S-Sorry!” Yachi says, the moment he stills at her touch. She jerks her head forward, where her door is wide open, by command of her mother. It makes her feel secure and open at the same time, not that she thinks Yamaguchi would do anything. It took him months to even step into her room. She folds her hands under her chest, so they won’t move again. “I like your freckles,” she mutters, since it’s the only thing she can say without making a complete wreck of herself.

Yamaguchi blushes, looks at Yachi, and smiles, easily this time. “Thanks,” he says, his face showing all of his gratitude. He takes a moment before he adds, “I used to not like them that much.”

One of Yachi’s arms slips out and hangs over Yamaguchi’s shoulder, casually. “Why?”

“There were these older kids that use to make fun of me because of them,” he says, his words honest. “I think it only stopped because I became friends with Tsukki and he would scare them all off for me, but I was never really fond of them because of that.”

Yachi’s gaze run over Yamaguchi’s face, soft, dimpled, beautiful, one that Yachi’s saved on her phone and in her mind and can recognize in any crowd. He has warm eyes and a million different smiles, and Yachi can recognize every single one of them. She knows Yamaguchi disliked a lot of things about himself, maybe still, but Yachi could spend forever showing him there’s much more to love.

She drapes her other arm over his opposite shoulder and wraps himself around his neck, pressing her lips against his cheek. “No.”

Yamaguchi is shocked silent for a moment, growing warm beneath her embrace, before he finally musters out a “Huh?”

“They’re wonderful,” she says. Her head lightly bumps against his. “I hope you don’t still think like that, dummy.”

“I don’t,” he admits, and draws back some, just to meet her eyes and oh, that’s a nice look. “I’ve been getting better at that, appreciating myself.”

“Good,” she tells him, thumping a hand against his chest. “You gotta keep your head up, Tadashi! Because you know you can’t let that get the best of you, it’s gonna eat you like a bear and then you’ll rot up and die and I’ll never see you again! What happens then? I don’t wanna be—mmph—”

The feeling of the kiss suddenly blooms over her lips, and her brain shuts down, just like that. All she can feel is a hand in her hair, pulling her closer, and Yamaguchi’s lips moving over her’s.

It doesn’t last long, because Yamaguchi pulls away, and says, “You helped.” She just stares, and his eyes shift nervously at her lack of response. “I mean, I’ve never… I’ve never known someone quite like you. You always face every day with such energy, and you always do your best even when you’re so nervous about everything. Sometimes I wonder if you’re scared of it all. But you know I love it when you smile? It means you’re still fighting, and I… I think that’s kind of… that it really is all it takes to make me think, “I can do this,” for that day.”

Yachi can’t move. Her mouth opens and shuts, but she can barely say a word.

“I, um, had a bit of a crush on you when I first saw you,” Yamaguchi says, though his nervous laughter. “You were really cute, but I really didn’t think about it. Girls are usually all over Tsukki, but you were different.”

He sighs, content, and leans back onto the bed to meet Yachi’s eyes.

“You found me, somehow,” he continues. “And I learned that you were a lot like me, just brighter. Better. You fight through every day with a smile, and somewhere along the way made me fall in love with you, so—”

Yamaguchi stops and straightens up, but Yachi already heard. Yeah. Already. Right then. He said that he… that…

Her boyfriend tries to stand up, probably to move away and apologize, but Yachi keeps a firm grip on his shoulder. “Don’t move,” she tells him, and slides herself off the bed. “No, wait a sec,” she continues, when he opens his mouth to speak. “I… just let me… can I…?”

She lifts herself into his lap, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.

There must have been some easier way to do this, with one of her knees pressed against Yamaguchi’s stomach as she tries to let him hold her properly, but Yamaguchi doesn’t seem to mind. One of his hands is pressed against her back, the other wrapped around her waist. Their kisses are short, slow, brief, close-mouthed, but send so much feeling.

“Don’t take it back,” she says, her nose pressed against his. “Please don’t.”

Yamaguchi kisses her again.

And her mother could probably walk past at any moment and see them, but she wouldn’t care. Not now. Because she’s kissing and dating and in love with this amazing person in her arms right now, and she thanks the heavens for the day she found him. She doesn’t need a prince or a knight or anything to sweep her off her feet.

She’ll take him, just by the hand, and it’ll be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/metis_ink)


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